


choosing to live

by hope27



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope27/pseuds/hope27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his talk with Barry, Oliver comes back to the Foundry to find Felicity still there, and he realizes he wants to stop fighting what his heart wants - and be with the person who's always been able to see the humanity and the hero inside of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	choosing to live

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So this fic was supposed to be something else entirely and then these two idiots decided to do what they wanted. I apologize. I’m pretty sure I’ve done this before, but they had a mind of their own tonight. (I will also blame the meds I’m on for this flu…blech.)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! As always, I’d love to know what you think! Thanks for all your support!

He was surprised to find her there when he returned from his just-for-fun showdown with Barry. Everyone else had cleared out, leaving only her and the gentle hum of her computers.

She sat in her chair, head tilted to the side as she stared at something on her screen. Numbers and code, but also something that looked like strands of DNA composition and he suddenly realized what had her attention. 

His stomach dropped. _Sara._

One of her hands played gently with her earring, rolling it in between her fingers, and he knew she was deep in thought. He could tell by the set of her shoulders, something was troubling her, and he hated to see her in any kind of pain.

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest as he watched her, remembering everything Barry had said to him.

He’d felt so lost the past few months, thinking he might have finally truly given up those last bits of his humanity. Wondering if he could ever get it back because whenever he looked into Felicity’s eyes and saw the emotions swimming deep within their depths - the respect and admiration and love - he could believe that he hadn’t lost it all. 

Because she was still there. Still beside him. And he wanted more than anything to reach out and touch her, hold her, feel her lips against his once more. He’d never felt more alive than when she was in his arms, loving him.

That’s when he truly knew he still had something to offer - scraps of whatever humanity and heart he had left - he’d give them all to her.

He wanted that - and with Barry’s words in his head, he took a few steps forward, coming into her peripheral vision.

She jumped, swiveling in her chair, hand pressed to her chest, and he saw the terror in her eyes.

He frowned, concern racing through him as he reached out, laying a hesitant hand on her shoulder, crossing lines that he hadn’t crossed in months.

“Hey, it’s just me…” He whispered softly, and she closed her eyes as she bobbed her head up and down.

“Sorry...guess I’m still a little jumpy. I hate when people break into this place. It leaves me feeling...off-balanced. This place is always associated with safety to me...whenever that gets broken…”

Guilt weaved its way into his heart, and he squeezed her shoulder, the tips of his fingers slipping and finding the warmth of her skin.

He hears her soft intake of air and had to quell the desire and emotions that rise within his own heart as he tries to find his voice.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “That was my fault…”

“Hey,” her head swiveled towards him, brows creasing, “Of course it’s not. I thought Barry already told you that…”

It was his turn to frown, and he watched as the color rose to her cheeks, making him want to lean down and brush his lips over them. “I might have overheard you talking to Barry...I didn’t want to interrupt, especially when someone else was trying to tell you what I’ve seen all along…”

His eyes slammed shut and he inhaled sharply, swallowing before opening his eyes to see her still staring up at him, blue eyes full of so many emotions that he hadn’t seen in weeks.

Slowly, she rose to her feet and he noticed for the first time she wasn’t wearing her heels, making her a good head shorter than him. His hand slipped from her shoulder as she reached up tentatively, fingertips brushing his jaw.

They both froze, and all he could hear was the hammering of his heart in his chest, beating a rapid tattoo against his ribs.

“Felicity…” he breathed, and he watched her react to his voice saying her name.

Her fingers trembled slightly, but slowly she unfurled them until she was cupping his cheek.

“You are a good man, Oliver Queen,” she whispered, with such conviction it flowed into him, making him desperate to believe. “Your humanity is what makes you not only a hero, but the man I…”

Her voice trailed off and he saw the unshed tears in her eyes, the lump forming in his throat making it hard to breathe. 

Neither of them were breathing, frozen in place as they stared at at each other. Her words rang in his ears and he knew what she was about to say and yet his heart ached to hear it...hear the words even if he didn’t deserve it.

And he knew he didn’t. He’d pushed her away. He’d shut the door before they’d even had a chance to begin and it was a regret he lived with every day of his life.

Slowly, his hands came up to cup her face, and her sharp inhale caused his own breath to rush through his lungs.

“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone.

“Stop thinking like that,” she cried suddenly, wetness clinging to her lashes as she shook her head. “You do, and I wish you could believe that. I wish you could just...love me.”

“I do!”

The words erupted from deep inside, refusing to be quieted any longer, a low growl torn from his chest.

As she squeezed her eyes closed, she whispered, “Then love me, Oliver. Stop running and hiding and believing you aren’t good enough or that I’m only going to get hurt and just love me...and let me love you!”

His eyes widened, and his heart stuttered to a stop in his chest before thundering back to life as she pressed up onto the balls of her feet and covered his mouth with her own. It took him a moment to respond, her soft lips moving against his, and then he stepped towards her, bringing them flush against one another, angling her head and sweeping his tongue over her bottom lip.

She responded with a soft mewl and a possessive need tore through him, the need to protect and love and cherish this woman with every bit of humanity and honor he had left.

“Felicity,” he rasped against her mouth as he breathed her in, his eyes opening to stare down at her. 

“Don’t you dare regret this…” she responded, trying to shake her head and he kissed her again, telling her without words that the couldn’t regret this - regret her - it wasn’t possible.

“That’s good to know,” she breathed, and he realized that he’d actually spoken all of that out loud, surprising him.

Chuckling, he pressed his lips to hers once more, and this time, when she swiped her tongue across his upper lip, it was his turn to groan and open to her.

For the first time in so long, he felt that deep place inside of his heart fill with something other than fear and self-loathing. With her in his arms, accepting her love and her loving him back, he found himself filled with hope.

Part of him still worried for when it would all come crashing down around him, and he reacted to that by pulling her closer. As if understanding his actions, she ran her hand up to the back of his head, carding her fingers through his short hair and down to the base of his neck, easing the tension and calming those fears with her simple touch.

“I love you,” she murmured when they finally parted for breath. 

He closed his eyes and reveled in the sound of those words from her lips.

“I love you, too,” he breathed, as she tucked her head beneath his chin and held him close.

With her in his arms, she knew they’d been right. He hadn’t lost his humanity. He’d buried it, deep inside for those five years, and, slowly, she’d been helping him recover it. 

He’d survived so much. It was time he started to _live_.


End file.
